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BRUCE STARR
Friday, March 18, 2005
THE CURRY CLUB, which opened last July, occupies a vintage, but unassuming brick rowhouse in Georgetown, several blocks up Wisconsin Avenue, beyond the traffic crush on M Street.
I recently had a late dinner at this small, upscale purveyor of British/Indian cuisine with a friend of Indian descent, who has a lot of family experience judging curries.
The restaurant’s first floor is smart, but sparsely furnished with a few tables and a view of the kitchen. The upstairs dining room is intimate and contains just a dozen tables.
Whitewashed walls contrast ebony wainscot and a burgundy plank floor, while obligatory rows of suspended halogens cast trendy light pools. A banquette strewn with pillows in hues of fuchsia, magenta, and Chinese red spans two walls. You don’t have to be gay to appreciate this color combination, but it helps.
CHEF AND OWNER Chris Payton could easily be described as an accidental restaurateur, who accompanied wife Parule from England when she came here to help launch BBC America. He began cooking curries for her during her pregnancy, then found himself making food for enthusiastic friends.
Upstairs, the single-page menu changes daily with several curries and some fun fusions like “Bubble and Squeak Samosa,” or a fish and chips adaptation, “Tandoori Salmon with Spicy Fries.” Payton’s genius lies in making the operation feel like effortlessly welcoming friends to his private kitchen.
Opposite the food menu are cocktails featuring various tropical juices. Perhaps the only incongruous note of our meal was my friend’s first drink. “Rough and Ready” sounded like a Rudyard Kipling-hearty concoction, but looked like a watery Cosmo, tasting vaguely of pink fruit.
Our helpful host/bartender Radesh (cute in a T-shirt proclaiming “Curry Casanova”) suggested a better alternative, a tangy Vodka gimlet served with mint. In a beer mood, I chose a bright English amber called Old Speckled Hen.
MY MEAL BEGAN with spinach soup, a pureed creamy green pool in a broad white soup plate, seasoned with shallots and tamarind. My partner chose Bigan: wedges, very lightly battered, seared, and served over sautéed spiced tomatoes that added just the right richness.
The fried yogurt bread consisted of Indian beignets with crackly golden crusts and creamy centers flecked with fennel. The mango chutney was comprised of fresh fruit marinated with cumin seed, shredded ginger and peppers. Though colorfully tasty, it lacked the saucy bite of preserved chutneys.
For my entrée I chose the Curry Club’s signature Beef Vindaloo, tender simmered morsels in a Massala of chiles, mustard seed, and an array of other seasonings. The first bite was … let’s just say spicy hot would be an understatement. But with the help of some mild rice, I ventured forward and found layers of new flavors beneath the heat.
The Rojan Josh, lamb curry with a kick tempered by yogurt, cardamon, and tomato, was also excellent. Like the other entrees, it came with rice and traditional vegetable stews.
For dessert, we shared a rich but rather heavy vanilla cake, drizzled with sugar syrup and served with pistachio ice cream. Need I say more?
The Curry Club feels like a step off the beaten path and a bit ahead of the trend curve. Glitzy it ain’t, so if your mood is pearls-and-heels, try some place else. But for unassuming comfort and understated elegance, this restaurant does not disappoint.
The restaurant’s menu changes daily with: appetizers from $7 to $9, entrees from $16 to $21, breads and side dishes from $3 to $4, and desserts from $7 to $8.
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